


Flights of Fancy

by ShipArmada (SarahSelene)



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Already Together, Everything's the same but Guardians have wings, M/M, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-14 21:33:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11216679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahSelene/pseuds/ShipArmada
Summary: “Why thank you!” Chirrut called back to him, his ebony iridescent wings spreading languid through the square. In the sunlight streaks of blues and purples shone on the beautiful glossy feathers. “Perhaps in another life.”Baze spread his own tan-and-red wings slightly, creating more shade for the children who sat around him, and he smiled as a small hand reached up to stroke one of the banded feathers. He tore his eyes away from Chirrut to tell the child to be careful, they were a part of him and pulling them would hurt. He didn’t get the chance to because just as he opened his mouth to speak, the wind whipped up around them and fluttered around, pulling up dirt and sand that clung to the streets, and by the time Baze could turn his head back, Chirrut was already in the air.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the calm before the storm, a happy moment in their lives. I hope you enjoy!

 

“Do it again, Master îmwe! Do it again!” Velat called out. Velat was a small human with huge eyes and a penchant for trouble. He reminded Baze a lot of Chirrut, especially when he smiled.

Chirrut’s sightless eyes swung towards the small child and he grinned towards him, a match for the boy’s. “Alright! Alright,” Chirrut turned his head in Baze’s direction and his grin grew. “Baze! Catch!” and Baze’s hand rose automatically to catch the staff from the air as it was thrown to him.

“You would have made a good circus performer!” Baze called back from his spot on the edge of the Square of Stars. They had been sent with a simple mission to deliver the extra food the temple had to those who needed it, and of course as soon as that task was done, Chirrut had wanted to stop and play with some of the children in the square. Baze had made a show of grumbling and complaining, but of course Chirrut had already won. Baze loved the children too, loved seeing their eyes grow as Chirrut showed off, loved when they came over to Baze to sit under the shade of his wings, loved when some of them drifted off around him, while others laughed at Chirrut’s antics.

Baze’s heart felt light here.

“Why thank you!” Chirrut called back to him, his ebony iridescent wings spreading languid through the square. In the sunlight streaks of blues and purples shone on the beautiful glossy feathers. “Perhaps in another life.” The children around him all goggled as if they had never seen the guardian before, but Baze could not blame them for their interest. Every time Baze saw them extended to their fullest, showing off their power and grace that was just an innate part of Chirrut, it felt like the first time as well.

These children had not seen those powerful wings’ beginning though. Did not see how they had started off small and fluffy, had not seen them in their development when the fluffy down shed away and were replaced with the elegant black feathers. Memories of those silly looking things were what kept Baze from goggling like these children.

Baze spread his own tan-and-red wings slightly, creating more shade for the children who sat around him, and he smiled as a small hand reached up to stroke one of the banded feathers. He tore his eyes away from Chirrut to tell the child to be careful, they were a part of him and pulling them would hurt. He didn’t get the chance to because just as he opened his mouth to speak, the wind whipped up around them and fluttered around, pulling up dirt and sand that clung to the streets, and by the time Baze could turn his head back, Chirrut was already in the air.

The children were already gasping in awe before Chirrut did the first trick, a swooping barrel roll that made Baze’s heart clench for a moment. It released once the roll was completed, and Chirrut completed a high loop. After three or four more tricks Chirrut finally landed, using his wings to slow his descent so he did not break his fool legs, and meeting with his adoring fans.

Baze’s heart swelled at the scene as he watched Chirrut laugh and pick up children, lifting them over his head and letting them pretend they could fly. It was not until all the children were safely out of the way that Baze threw the staff back, watching Chirrut catch it easily. “Baze,” Chirrut called over, tapping the end of the staff to the ground. “I believe it is time for us to go.”

Baze let out a breath and he nodded, shifting and standing up. The children under his wings complained and tried to grab for him. He apologized to the small children as he folded his wings again and moved over to Chirrut. “Did you have fun showing off?” he asked Chirrut as they left the disappointed children behind, heading back for the temple.

“Of course!” Chirrut said with a bright smile and laugh. “Those children always brighten my day; it is only fair that I should be able to brighten theirs.” Chirrut’s wings tucked up tight against his back as he walked, careful of the people sliding around them.

“I think I saw the beginnings of wings on Telica’s back,” Baze pointed out, and he smiled when he saw Chirrut’s smile brighten even more.

“Really?” Chirrut tapped his staff over the ground. “We should keep an eye on her,” he said, pausing when Baze chuckled, “she could be in the next generation of guardians. Oh, that would be exciting.”

“We will,” Baze said, looking over Chirrut’s wings quietly. He watched the feathers shift and slide together, their jewel tones bright. Baze swallowed hard and looked away quickly before he had thoughts of touching them. “Then you could train her, you’d love that.”

“Mm,” Chirrut’s smile softened at the corners, nodding to Baze. “Yes, I would…” He paused his walking when they entered the Old Shadows, Chirrut taking a deep breath as he did and centered himself. Then they were walking again, this time in comfortable companionable silence.

Chirrut spoke again after a moment, just in front of the gates of the temple. “Baze, have you been feeling something… off when you sense the Force?”

Baze paused and looked back at Chirrut, an eyebrow raising. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” and then Chirrut paused, thinking carefully on his words, “it feels like something is… imminent. It’s not a vision, but it feels like the Force is trying to warn me of something larger than I’ve ever dealt with.”

“You think the Force is speaking directly to you?” Baze asked with a small scoff. “Do not let Master Ivenna hear you. She will call you blasphemous.”

“She does anyway,” Chirrut pointed out, walking through the gates. “But I’ve spoken to the other Guardians and they are not feeling it. The Disciples say they can interpret something, but it does not seem as I am feeling it.” Chirrut shook his head. “I am sorry, I am being silly. Of course, the Force is not speaking directly to me. I am probably just thinking too much on it.”

Baze’s hand moved before he could stop himself, sliding between feathers until he was touching along Chirrut’s spine. “You are silly,” Baze said quietly, “but not for trying to interpret the Force.” Chirrut’s wings fluttered around Baze’s hand, the silky feathers sliding over Baze’s arm.

“Hm,” was Chirrut’s non-verbal response. “I wish I could shake the feeling that something terrible is coming. Everything is as the Force wills it…” Chirrut swallowed and did not finish the line, throat bobbing as he swallowed. Baze’s hand clutched into the robes through the feathers.

“Chirrut,” Baze said quietly and then tugged on the robes, getting Chirrut to stop and to turn to him. “Are you afraid?”

“No,” Chirrut said, and Baze was sure he was telling the truth. “No I’m not afraid, just… nervous. Anxious, I suppose. I do not like this feeling, and I do not like not know why I’m having it.” Chirrut frowned, moving his head away. “It would be easier if I knew why.”

“I know,” Baze responded quietly before he tucked his hand under Chirrut’s jaw and lifted it gently, leaning down close and pressing their lips together. Baze listened to Chirrut’s feathers shake together as Chirrut’s wings trembled and Baze could not help but smile into the kiss. Chirrut stepped close, his staff becoming pinned between them, the metal handle starting to bruise Baze’s skin. As Chirrut deepened the kiss Baze brought his wings forward, covering them from wandering eyes.

The kiss was broken slowly and reluctantly by them both, Chirrut backing up slightly to unpin the staff. “Mm… you’re using your wings to screen us, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Baze’s easy answer came, looking down at Chirrut’s soft pink lips, the flush of his cheeks. Ten years and Chirrut was still the most handsome man Baze had ever known, and Baze felt grateful that Chirrut wanted Baze as well. “Should we go to our room?”

Chirrut’s grin was back and he nodded. “Yes, Baze, I think that is a good idea.” Chirrut’s free hand slid into Baze’s and he tugged on Baze’s hand to lead him away. Baze’s wings folded back as he followed him, finding himself grinning along with Chirrut.

The door slammed opened as Chirrut opened it and then once Baze was in through the door Chirrut used his staff to slam it closed. The kissing resumed where they had left off, hot and hungry. The staff clattered as Chirrut tried to put in in the corner of the room and missed, and Chirrut let out an angry huff when Baze laughed into his mouth.

“You keep doing that and I am not having sex with you,” Chirrut muttered to him. Baze could not stop the laugh that escaped him, kissing him again and then pulling back.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Baze said, lifting Chirrut up and stepping over the staff as Chirrut’s wings flared and Chirrut squawked. “And you’re terrible at acting indignant.”

“I will have you know,” Chirrut said, tapping Baze’s forehead as Baze set him down on their shared bed, “I am great at acting indignant! It is my specialty! I am an expert at acting indignant!”

Baze kneeled in front of Chirrut and leaned forward, burying his face into Chirrut’s shoulder as he laughed. He could not see Chirrut’s bright proud smile from there but he knew he was wearing it. Chirrut’s hands slid over the tops of Baze’s wings and Baze shuddered. “I want you inside me,” Baze murmured into Chirrut’s shoulder as Chirrut’s hands slid against the muscles around Baze’s wings, pressing into the knots that were ever present.

“Anything you want, beloved,” Chirrut said, one hand sliding up and cupping Baze’s cheek before kissing him deeply.

“Mm…” Baze reached down, tugging at Chirrut’s robes and sliding them away from Chirrut’s shoulders, tugging at the shirt underneath. “We are supposed to be meeting with the other Guardians…”

“I’m sure they will be able to run the meeting without us,” Chirrut said before he kissed Baze again, and they melted together comfortable, following the comfortable routes they had carved out throughout the years.


	2. Chapter 2

The Force was screaming. Chirrut woke with a sense of dread that buried deep into his heart, deep enough to puncture him and go out the other side. His entire body had turned into a live wire, trembling and shaking, and quickly got out of the bed. He felt his wings bend as he rolled, felt the sting of pain as they bent the wrong way in his rush. He pushed it down, untangling from the blankets and falling from the bed onto his knees. He pushed away the throbbing pain from his consciousness and he moved forward, climbing to his feet and pushing open the door to the refresher. He reached forward and felt the controls for the sink, and listened as water started pouring from the faucet.

He swallowed as cold water slid over his hands, and he focused on the feeling. He let the panic seep out of him, leaving just the dark empty feeling behind. He lifted his hands and leaned his face forward until the cold water was around him, blocking his mouth and nose. The water drained through his fingers, plinking as they hit the basin below him. Once he could breathe again he drew in a deep steadying breath and used his hands to grip at the basin, keeping himself together.

Heavy footsteps behind him, and then large hands resting between his wings. “I feel it too,” Baze rumbled out, and he was moving closer to Chirrut. Baze’s fingers slid over Chirrut’s spine gently, and Chirrut let a shiver escape him. He stretched out his wings experimentally, wincing when he felt a sharp pain draw up and to his shoulder. “What does it mean?” Baze asked, and Baze moved close against the new flat-ness of Chirrut’s back, arms sliding around Chirrut’s waist. Chirrut made no comments about the pain from his wing.

“I don’t know,” Chirrut whispered, reaching his hand up and over his own wing, sliding his fingers into Baze’s mass of hair. “I don’t know, but I don’t think it’s going to be good.”

“Mm,” rumbled out Baze, kissing the back of Chirrut’s neck gently, giving his waist a squeeze. Chirrut’s wings relaxed gently, feeling as they framed Baze’s body. “Perhaps we should go back to bed, discover the answer in the morning…”

“Last time we went to bed we hardly slept,” Chirrut pointed out, trying to insert levity to fight the despair in his chest.

Baze chuckled and his lips pressed against Chirrut’s head, kissing him gently. “I promise, just sleep. I am very tired.”

Chirrut smiled gently and he shook his head. “You’re always tired,” he teased. He opened his mouth to speak when the bells started ringing, filling their room with sound. Chirrut lifted his head, listening to the noise. “Is it morning already?”

“No,” Baze said, and his arms around Chirrut’s waist were tightening like vices, keeping Chirrut there, shielding Chirrut from an unknown danger. “No, it’s the middle of the night…”

Chirrut paused and then nodded, resting his own hands on top of Baze’s, pressing them down to try to slide them off his body. “We should get dressed then, sleep will have to wait.”

Baze let go of Chirrut’s waist reluctantly and he pulled away. Chirrut could feel Baze frowning, and he countered it with his own smile. “I will make it up to you. I will let you nap instead of making you spar later on.”

Baze’s deep laugh made it worth it, and as Chirrut turned back to the door, Baze kissed his forehead again. “I will hold you to that.”

Chirrut smiled warmly as his heart swelled with affection for his husband and he nodded, staying quiet. He moved passed the door and he reached out to find his clothes.

/

Baze walked behind Chirrut up to the large chamber. The chamber was always cold, due to the high ceiling that carried an echo and the large open archways around the walls, easy access for Guardians to get in and out. Baze and Chirrut were the last to arrive and the room was beginning to get crowded. The Disciples sat in the center of the room, talking quietly amongst themselves, and the Guardians formed a ring around them, wings of all colors and sizes fluttering and shifting. No one was at ease in the room.

Space was made for them and Baze set his hand on Chirrut’s shoulder before they moved into it. Baze nodded to Master Fedal beside him, the one-eyed Bothan nodding back, his fluffy brown wings pulling in to give Baze room.

Master Ivenna, a tall thin human woman whose hair matched her grey wings, spread her wings up and around her neighbors to get their attention. Instantly all eyes were on her, except Chirrut’s, who tipped his head to show that he was listening. “Now that we’re all here,” Master Ivenna said and there was an edge of irritation in her voice as her eyes made eye contact with Baze, who simply shrugged in response and tilted his head towards Chirrut’s in answer. Chirrut’s response was to push Baze’s side with his wing, the rest of his posture collected and respectful. “We have just gotten word that there was an attempt on the Supreme Chancellor’s life, and that the Jedi have betrayed the Republic.”

Everyone in the room tensed at those words, and Baze’s hands clenched at his sides. No one said anything in Master Ivenna’s pregnant pause, but even the most stoic of the Guardians shifted restlessly. Chirrut’s hand slid down his staff. It was a move that most would think was just a readjustment, but to Baze, Chirrut may as well have exclaimed in surprise.

“The Supreme Chancellor has asked that any Jedi seeking protection be turned over to the Republic,” Ivenna continued, taking a deep breath, her hands folding in front of her.

“We will not, right?” Silvanie’s sing-song voice spoke up from the group of disciples. The vocoder hitched up a note, revealing the anxiety. Baze wondered if he had imagined it, projected his own emotions onto Silvanie, then decided it did not matter. The room is anxious.

The pause that followed Silvanie’s question said more than Master Ivenna’s words, “We will have to see.”

“What has happened with the Jedi?” Fedal asked next to Baze’s shoulder, raising his voice to speak over the sudden murmurs that filled the room.

“Chancellor Palpatine says that they will be tried for their crimes.”

“That is Bantha shit,” Baze said, crossing his arms over his chest when eyes swiveled to him. “The Jedi are _gone_. The Force is not in such chaos because the Jedi were _arrested_.” Anger sparked through Baze, his fingers twitching. His anger cuts through him easily, an emotion he is familiar with and can hold to, easier to deal with than the ache.

There were nods of agreement throughout the room, and then everyone was talking, asking about the younglings at the temple, the Padawans. Was the temple still standing? What about the war? Master Ivenna had to spread her wings again to get the attention back to her. “I know we all have questions,” Master Ivenna called to them, “I do not know about the younglings or the Padawans but-“

“They are dead,” Chirrut whispered, for Baze’s ears only, as Master Ivenna gave the few answers she had. Chirrut’s hands tightened on his staff, mimicking the feeling around Baze’s heart. Baze turned his head to look at Chirrut, watching as the black wings shifted forward, covering Chirrut’s shoulders, ineffectively shielding him. “They were all killed.”

Baze wanted to ask how Chirrut knew, but he already had the answer for the question. He did not know what to say in that moment, the anger inside him building into a bon fire. Baze had learned to live with a lot of things, had learned how to let many things go, but the murder of children was not one Baze could accept, and since Baze could not take the anger out on the ones who hurt _children_ , Baze’s anger latched onto the cold way Chirrut had delivered the news, ignoring the way Chirrut was showing his own pain.

Master Ivenna’s voice brought Baze back to the conversation at hand, and Baze turned back to her, arms tightening around his chest as if it could keep the anger in. “-Palpatine is sending people to mine for the Kyber.”

“What?” Baze barked, and the chamber exploded in sound. The Guardians spoke over one another, trying to get their voices heard. There was an agreement, the people of Jedha could regulate how much Kyber was mined and sold, and the Republic had always respected that. The idea of an outside government who rarely even remembered that Jedha existed was going to take control of their mines was unthinkable.

Master Ivenna was trying to get the room to settle again and talk over the noise. The Guardians and Disciples only spoke louder, speaking over each other. The cacophony echoed in the chamber, bouncing off the walls, until a single noise brought it all to a halt. Master Ken’al, sitting in the center of the Disciples, began coughing. It was a deep, bone rattling cough, one that came out rasping, fluttering like paper. Master Ken’al was the oldest of them all, had tended the library for as long as anyone could remember, he had seen most in the room grow up. The cough ripped through Baze’s heart, cut through the anger and the ache that rested in here.  Baze moved forward, but Chirrut’s hand rested on one of his wings, holding him back. Killi was there, touching his back and soothing the old man until the silence returned.

The silence stretched out, oppressive and heavy on the minds of all in the chamber. “I fear nothing, everything is as the Force wills it,” Chirrut said, his voice carrying and echoing over all of them, breaking through the silence. “If this is the will of the Force, then the Force will also give us a solution.”

Master Ivenna let out a long breath, her wings lowering slowly. “Master îmwe is correct. I know this is not what any of us want.” She paused to draw in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “None of us. The loss of the Jedi will be felt within all of us for a long time, and allowing this man to enter the mines is almost too much to take, but for now there is no other option. We should all meditate on this. If anyone comes up with a solution I will gladly consider it.” Finally, her wings fold and she looked so tired, defeated, empty, and the anger bursts in Baze’s chest again. It had no direction to follow, so it just sat heavily in Baze’s chest, burning him alive.

There is nothing more to speak of. No solutions are brought forth and no one is dismissed, but the meeting is over anyway. Some of the Guardians move to the archways and with a spread of wings take off from them, going into a free fall and then rising a heartbeat later. Others just walked away. The Disciples stayed, their voices rising in prayers, staying close and filling the chamber with their voices. Baze did not move until the hand on his wing gave a squeeze. He turned in time with Chirrut, following him out of the chamber and into the hallway.

“You are angry,” Chirrut said once the voices receded behind them.

“Of course I’m angry,” was Baze’s answer, his jaw clenching hard enough to ache. “The Jedi are all dead. Younglings are dead because of it. We’re supposed to believe a lie that there are Jedi who have been arrested and are awaiting trial.”

“They are one with the Force now,” Chirrut pointed out before clarifying, “the younglings and the Padawans. They are no longer in pain.”

“That does not make it better,” Baze snapped at Chirrut, before drawing in a breath. It was not Chirrut’s fault, and taking it out on Chirrut would do nothing to make the situation better.

Chirrut let out a small hum and he nodded. “I know,” he said quietly, turning slightly to Baze and coming to a stop. “Perhaps we could go spar? It might make you feel better,” Chirrut said in a more normal tone when Baze came to a stop, and his bright smile spread on his face.

Baze could not stop the small smile from developing even if he wanted to. It was a tempting offer, one that he had taken many times in the past. Let his instincts takeover, let his mind focus on the moment that he was in instead of branching out into the past and the future, worrying over both. That was not what Baze wanted in that moment. Baze knew it was not healthy, but he wanted to be mired in the pain a while longer, to be pulled into what he cannot change so that he might prevent it from happening in the future. He would deal with the consequences of the unhealthy thoughts later. “No. Thank you, Chirrut.” Baze closed the gap between them and he slid his fingers over the bow of Chirrut’s wing, feeling for the bones underneath and squeezing gently. “I think I will go for a flight, clear my head.”

Chirrut nodded and he never let the smile falter, though Baze could see through to the pain under it. “Well, if you must leave me by myself,” Chirrut teased with no heat in his voice. “I’m sure that I can find some way to cause trouble until you return.”

“I’m sure you can,” Baze answered in a mimicry of his long-suffering tone. He did not feel it, not today, and he knew that Chirrut did not either. He leaned down and pressed his forehead into Chirrut’s, reaching back and cupping the back of his head. “I will return when I’m less angry.” Chirrut let out an unbelieving scoff, but any retort was lost by the kiss that Baze pressed on his lips.

Baze broke away and began running. When his feet hit the courtyard, his wings spread to their full length, and a few more steps a few heavy beats of his wings, he was up and soaring above the temple, over the houses, over all NiJedha. He let the rushing air block his ears and clear his mind. With a few more beats of his wings, he is flying high over Jedha, so high the city looks small. Baze knows in his mind the city is small in the grand scheme of things. A drop of water in an entire ocean that is the Universe. It is his home, though, the only one he has ever known, it is his world. Seeing is small in that moment humbles him before he turns and soars over the desert.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me at [ShipArmada](shiparmada.tumblr.com) if you ever want to talk!


End file.
